


Fell Hell

by Teddy_Feathers



Series: Falling Up [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, I'm honestly thinking this is the best written thing I've done thus far, Other, Post-Pacifist Route, Trying to keep reader gender ambiguous, lots of cussing, one night stand that leads to crush, reader is not little mary sunshine, still not great at characterization though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7297669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy_Feathers/pseuds/Teddy_Feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underfell monsters hit the surface about three years back. They're kinda jerks and humanity is rightfully wary of them. MC got drunk talking to The Great and Terrible Papyrus and one thing led to another and now has a HUGE crush on him... Too bad his stats say he's a mass murderer and not exactly boyfriend material. The best sorts of Reader x Underfell stories I've read had the MC be a decent if not REALLY nice person so I decided to have a human who has just as big an attitude problem as they do instead. TRYING to keep MC's gender ambiguous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to talk to me or request things in the comments.

It had been a one night stand. No matter how many times you told yourself that, your heart didn’t seem to believe it. It pounded in your chest as you unhappily nursed your drink, making you painfully aware of _his_ presence. 

He sat at the bar staring grimly into a drink of his own. Why did he even come here, to this dingy bar on the wrong side of town? He was obviously unhappy and had said it himself – he was too good for the likes of this place.

Your chest tightened and you slammed back the drink letting the whisky burn the emotion away.

He was. You couldn’t deny that.

Oh sure he was everything you'd been raised to hate - a literal monster in fact - but for all his negatives you couldn't help but admire him. And damned if you hadn’t tried.

But no. You just haaaad to fall for the bad boy. And not even the bad boy who acted like he gave two shits.

Desperately you thought that maybe you just had a kink for monsters, but as you scanned the crowd you felt nothing.

Not even his brother, drinking a bottle of _mustard_ , got more of a reaction than mild amusement.

But as soon as your eyes fell on “The Great and Terrible Papyrus” your mouth went dry and your heart skipped a beat.

Fuck you had it bad.

Pulling out your phone you fiddled with it like you were texting, keeping your head down and your expression unfriendly. Not hard to do in a place like this. Nobody really wanted anything to do with one another. It was weird that the two of you had hit it off so well the other night.

You brought up the power reading app that had become all the rage when the monsters first crawled out of hell. Before you let yourself sink any deeper you had to know.

Apparently monsters had a natural ability to check souls to see their dominant trait and how strong they were - ie how many people they’d killed. There were laws being debated right now about cops being able to use your LV and EXP to detain you for questioning and open an investigation. The science was still being developed to see what did and didn’t count towards your LV but in the meantime a phone app had been made that let a human be able to check souls - including monster souls.

You tried to be subtle about scanning the bar. You weren’t sure if anyone noticed but they didn’t call you on it. Seeing as monsters didn’t have to sneak around to check your stats you figured it was only fair that you could check theirs.

**He had the highest level in the room.**

Even his brother was significantly lower. Your heart dropped and took up residence in the vicinity of your stomach.

Yeah. You were fucked.

Slipping away your phone, you left a tip on the table and left the bar.

You liked a _demon_. A skeleton you could have dealt with - had rather well this morning - but a mass murder? Your stomach filled with curdled milk.

He was sarcastic, grumpy, controlling, prideful, challenging. You’d only spoken to him once really, and then slept with him. Surely you could get over this attachment?

Ha. As if. It was taking everything in you to keep walking, instead of giving into that longing to say screw the consequence and go back in there to hit him up for another round.

You never wanted anyone this bad before, sexually or otherwise. Not really. People were aesthetically pleasing at best and your relationships never really had that warm spark or intensity the stupid romance books and movies talked about.

But you’d dared to think Papyrus was different. Not because he was “exotic” being a different species, nothing as shallow and ignorable as that. You’d just clicked. Went from drinking, to talking, to having a good time without once ever questioning it. You _liked_ his attitude and his mocking laughter. His over inflated opinion of his own importance. His uncanny ability to call someone’s bluff...

Fuck. No you weren’t going to focus on his good points. Not when you barely knew him. That was a good way to wind up being just another red stain on his boots.

Yeah. You’d noticed the blood and dust on his boots and still slept with him. That’s how deep you were in.

Growling at yourself in annoyance you kicked an empty bottle against a closed shop. It didn’t shatter and you kept walking, slipping down a dark alley with the confidence of someone who’d taken the route countless times.

People got horny and had crushes on assholes all the time.

They moved on, so could you. No one has to know that you he was anything more than a one night drunken mistake.

Your mind whispered that you had been plenty sober when you started to fool around but you ignored it. Might not be able to delude yourself but the only really goal was to fool everyone else.

Couldn't have anyone thinking you were a monster sympathizer. Even the monsters themselves frowned upon that.

It was dark out but not terribly late. Bars would be open for several hours yet, and Saturday night traffic was still going strong on the main drag. You wandered around the back alleys feeling powerful. No one ever bugged you. You were one of them. One of the people you don’t fuck around with.

It was in the way you walked, your attitude. When you grow up in the dingy side of town you learn how to not look like a target. And when someone does think they can get the jump on you? You usually managed to prove you’re no victim.

Luckily it didn’t come down to that often. Really attitude was everything. You radiate a tough aura and most people leave you alone. They want someone vulnerable with something worth the risk.

You were used to the sticky alleys and the smell coming off the dumpster. The broken glass crunching underfoot and the homeless people watching you with guarded expressions. You turned down another alleyway.

Wandering.

No point in going home right now. If you waited another two hours your dad may even have forgotten you didn’t come home on time.

Your steps echoed loudly around you, and it was oddly quiet despite the sounds of rushing traffic only a few streets away.

A second set of steps fell in behind you and your shoulders tensed in a strong line. Tossing a glace casually behind you reviled nothing, which meant whoever it was must be further down. Not following you.

Caution first though.

You took a couple of random turns, not so much to shake them as to make sure you could be alone with your thoughts and tangled emotions.

Another scuff of a shoe against asphalt came from behind you. Closer this time. Maybe dealing with your drunk-ass dad would be worth it tonight. You just had this feeling...

A dark figure stepped out if the shadows ahead of you and stopped. Well fuck you’d been herded.

You put your hands in your pockets and stopped walking. Hand went into brass knuckles and tightened into a fist. Sure they were illegal. Didn’t mean they didn’t help you pack a hell of a lot better punch than you normally did.

Adrenaline hit your system.

If it was just the two of them you had a decent chance of being fine if you fought hard enough. Most people wouldn’t find you worth the trouble of dealing with. You wondered, as you did before every bit of trouble you got into, if this was it. The time they were luckier than you. You hoped not. As last thoughts go focusing on your alcoholic father and some skeleton you didn’t want to be hooked on was kind of depressing.

They were probably either waiting for you to bolt, or trying to make you more afraid before coming for you. You didn’t mind waiting. Waiting wasn’t getting the shit knocked out of you, and gave you a chance to scrounge around in your mind for better last thoughts just in case.

Couldn’t be things you were going to do if you survived, because if you died that’d turn into things you'll never get to do. So depressing.

Your father’s mangled sermon came to mind and you ginned. _Yea_ , _though I walk_ _through the_ _valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil_ , _because I’m_ _the baddest motherfucker_ _here._

There. That worked

Your fist came back out of your pockets the knuckles catching what little ambient light there was.

Apparently that was the sign he’d been waiting for. The tall dark shape moved forward and it was worse than some mugger or gang member. It was him. Papyrus.

You’d think having a slight thing for him and having sex with him would have put you more at ease in his presence. Ha. Even if you hadn’t seen his LV you’d be freaking out right now.

He was a monster. A monster that had somehow cornered you in a dark ally.

Papyrus was the sort of tall that made basketball players jealous, didn’t matter what your relative height was he’d always make you feel small. Between now and when you’d left the bar he’d put on his armor, black chest piece, spiky pauldrons, and metal plates affixed to his pants. Must be custom made because that wasn’t the sort of thing you could buy around here. It’d look ridiculous if it wasn’t for his face.

Cracked socket, glowing red eyes, firm jaw, sneering mouth… No one could pull off disdain like a skeleton. Between his armor and his expression it was obvious he was ready to go to war, modern law be damned. You were so busy taking in his, admittedly impressive, appearance that you’d forgotten that you were his target.

Didn’t even see him move – he was just suddenly in front of you, gloved hand gripping your collar and lifting you up to his face. Your hands clung to his arm, trying to hold your body weight off the shirt that was digging painfully into the back of your neck. Surprisingly breathing wasn’t an issue in this position like you’d have thought it would be – well… it wouldn’t be if you weren’t holding your breath as your eyes met his furious ones.

“Pitiful human, did you really think that I wouldn’t notice you? That just because we had relations I would let my guard down?” Apparently being a skeleton meant no muscle fatigue. His arm was rock solid as he held you up to his considerable height. Your feet kicked uselessly in the air. “You’re a fool thinking such a weak creature like you had any hope of dusting me.”

Dust him? _You_ dust _him_?

You were scared out of your mind, helpless before this powerful fucking monster, all because he thought you were hanging around to _dust him?_ Your breath escaped you in a rush as you started laughing.

“Sure I’m an idiot with a crush on you, but I’m not delusional!” It took a second for your words to catch up to you and your laughter cut off abruptly. So much for not letting anyone find out.  

The cruel lines of his face contorted in confusion. “You wish to _crush_ the Great Papyrus?” He asked as if baffled how such a small weak thing such as yourself would find that any more achievable.

Lump in throat you considered your options. Maybe if you told him exactly how pathetic you were he’d let you live out of pity? You had to do something. Your arms were shaking with the effort of holding yourself up.

“No I’m saying I'm stupid enough to want to date you.” Your grip slipped and gravity jerked you down, tearing the collar of the shirt, allowing you to slip out of it and regrettably your jacket. Stumbling you managed to remain upright on your feet.

In shock, either at your confession or your sudden escape from his grasp, Papyrus didn’t react and using your brass knuckle covered hand you sucker punched him in his spine.

Hey erogenous zones were sensitive ones, right? You’d seen his LV, crushing on a murder was dumb enough you weren’t going to stick around and let him have his wicked way with you. With your luck sex was too vanilla for him and he'd want something to do with knives.

As you took off running leaving the skeleton hunched into himself painfully you wondered, if his spine is a weak point why is it the one part of his body NOT covered in armor?

You were half naked and recklessly racing down the alleyways towards the main streets. Fuck yeah! Okay so you _weren’t_ the baddest mother fucker out there, but you’d just escaped from him. Blood pumping in your veins you couldn’t help the almost crazed grin stretching across your face. Adrenaline high and free as a bird.

When you hit the well-lit and traveled thoroughfare you didn’t hesitate but booked it across the busy intersection, somehow managing not to end up as road kill despite the heavy Saturday night traffic.

You finally made it home, exhausted, panting, with a stitch in your side. You could see the television light flickering around the curtains, and hear your dad’s belly laugh join in the canned sitcom laughter.

Much slower now you made your way around the side of the house. No longer pumped at your close call with death you plopped inelegantly onto the back porch. Resting, you tried to catch your breath and let the night air cool your sweaty body.

Letting your head thunk against the screen door you took stock. Phone-wallet-keys were all in your pants pockets, brass knuckles… it took a minute but you finally reminded your hand how to unclench and started rubbing the stiffness out of it.

Hand might be bruised tomorrow, but besides that and the loss of your favorite jacket you’d done alright for yourself against someone that far out of your league. Bringing your knees up to your chest you muttered. “So why do I feel like I'm screwed?”

“’cause you’re just starting to have a bad time.”

You shot to your feet heart going from 0 to 60 instantly. There in your backyard was the shorter skeleton, the brother, and you’d forgotten all about him and led him straight back to your house.

_You idiot._

You wondered if you could make enough noise to get your dad to come out with his shotgun... but with your luck he’d actually shoot you instead.

Seeing the wide smile the sharp toothed monster was shooting you that might be preferable to whatever he had planned for you.

He laughed probably at your obvious fear and stuck out his left hand. "no need to stand on ceremony, we're just gonna have a friendly little chat. so why don’t ya **s i t  d o w n**."

His voice went dark and cold and so did your heart and blood.. It felt like gravity reached up and yanked you down, and you fell back hard onto the concrete porch.

Before he''d been a dark shape barely illuminated by the ambient light from your neighbors porch lights, now his left socket flickered with a magical flame that cast his face in an ominous red glow.

The canned and drunken laughter from inside the house made your stomach clench and your mouth go dry.

And he wasn’t even _half_ his brother's level.

"the names sans, sans the skeleton. i know all about you of course. have to look out for my bro right? ‘specially when he just _happens_ to hook up for a night with the kid of a prominent monster hate group's leader.

You tried to fight against the force weighing you down but even though you could push up, it just dragged you right back down. It was all you could do to remain sitting upright. So your anger driven surge forward was less than impressive when you immediately plopped back down on your ass. "Look I've been going to that bar long before you creatures crawled outta the bowels of hell. And taking my drunk-ass back to his place was his idea not mine."

You didn’t bother keeping your voice down. It was obvious your dad was too sloshed to give a shit if World War Three started outside your door, and your neighbors were used to yelling coming from your place.

Sans simply looked amused at your outburst. You didn’t mention the sex. You didn’t even know how to reconcile the fact you’d been plenty sober the next morning when that started, or that you hadn’t and still didn’t really give a shit that he was everything you’d been raised to hate.

He let out a mocking chuckle. "sure sure. and ya came into night to confess your affection for my kick ass bro, and just chickened out at the last minute?

You could feel the blood rush to your face. That was not what you’d gone into do. It wasn’t...well not anymore at any rate. Especially not now that you knew the truth. How fucking dangerous he was. You already lived in one bad situation. No reason to get tied up in another one.

"Your brother is a mass murdering monster!" You spat out in denial, embarrassed irritation giving you strength to stand. Everything weighed you down. His magic, your sins, your fucking crush...

He snorted, the light in his eye flickering out and gravity suddenly releasing you. "pfft. yeah. my bros not someone ya want to mess with. well. got the feeling we'll be seeing each other around. put it there pal."

You looked at his outstretched hand incredulously. As far as you were concerned he was still threatening you with it. “We are not friends.”

"not with that attitude we won’t be."

There was a threatening glint in Sans eyes that belayed his still grinning face. You stepped off the porch and took his hand.

Only to release it an instant later. "Fuck!" You yanked your hand away, and he let you flashing you the buzzer he’d had palmed.

"heh never not funny." Smug bastard.

"Not as hilarious as it'll be when I knock your fucking teeth down your throat." You muttered resentfully, done with this guy’s shit.

"that’s the spirit. keep that sort of attitude up and you won’t be getting boned as well as screwed."

He winked and then wandered around the side of the house. Like hell he or his brother would be seeing you around.

No way.

You’d learned your lesson. You’d be damned if you’d let your libido or your emotions talk you into going anywhere near those two crazy fuckers.

The tv cut off inside. Speaking of damned...

Tomorrow was mass. Where your honorable father would be presiding, followed by a meeting of the local chapter of Dust to Dust.

Attendance mandatory.

You scooped up your brass knuckles - fat lot of good they’d done you tonight - and quietly made your way into the house, finally collapsing on your bed. Screw it. You’d get a shower in the morning.

Funnily enough you were dreading tomorrow more than you were worried about running into _him_ again.

It would be another fun day of dealing with your dad’s hangover, getting both of you dressed and picture fucking perfect in your Sunday finest. It’d be listening to your dads slurs and insults because you were nothing but a disappointment up until you got to the church and he would hold you close and rave about your supposedly good qualities in the hopes of marrying you off while you smiled and tried not to choke on the smell of cologne and hair of the dog. It’d mean two sessions, the 8 am and the 10 am maiming of the good news until everything was fire and brimstone and that the time of reckoning was upon you.

It would mean playing the part of the good child and supportive family member, never admitting to having an original thought in your head. It’d mean lunch where you couldn’t talk too much or say too little and just knowing from the too hard shoulder claps you’d be hearing about how you embarrassed him anyways when you got home.

It was that familiar dread of Sunday that settled over you and you wondered if perhaps it would have been better to let the monsters take you, demons or not. An honest fuck or an honest fight would have been preferable.

Hell attitude, threats, and all you preferred their company to your dads any day. And how sad was that? Least they’d probably kill you quick without actually trying to break you in the process.

Not for the first time you dreamed of leaving, just packing a bag and getting outta dodge. But...

While you had a job it wasn’t enough to hold down a place of your own. Your dad confiscated a sizable chunk of your earnings so you didn’t have much in the way of savings. And you didn’t have anyone else to consign or move in with.

Escape was a fantasy. As much a fantasy as you not being torn to itty bitty bits the next time your path crossed Papyrus' despite your accidental confession.

Depressing. But that's life right? Like poker, you gotta play the hand you’re dealt and bluff like hell. It’d been nice for a while to pretend that you’d finally found someone who understood that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope ya'll have a lovely day.

Monsters were what was wrong with the world. Obviously.

They lived up to the name even before they had crawled out from the mouth of hell. Scary, children killing, hateful, cruel, and obviously the stuff of nightmares.

Some kid lets them out and all of the sudden the government is declaring them ‘citizens’ with ‘rights’.

Rights? _Really?_ They’re **monsters.** Bent on the destruction of humanity, think killing is ‘good fun’, oh and not of this world - ring any bells? At least make them _apply_ for citizenship!

Tensions ran high but despite protests, things settled down after the first couple of years. So what’s the ‘concerned citizen’ to do? Who do they turn to when the government has forsaken them? How does one protect their family from the big bad nasties next door?

Why what any rational well-adjusted member of society would do – they formed hate groups.

Your dad was one of the forerunners of one such organization. The last couple of years you’d attended meetings as ‘mandatory family time’ helped set up snacks and write informational brochures.

What fun.

Despite disliking the thing as a whole, you had pretty much accepted the ideas behind it. Monsters made no secret of their desire to kill, maim, and destroy without remorse the entirety of the human race. Not just for the supposed crimes of humanities ancestors but because of their belief that humans were a subpar species that deserved on some level to be destroyed.

Honestly the president was an idiot to let them roam around free.

At least…

That’s what you thought to start.

After a few years without incident though, you were beginning to wonder. Hell maybe the ‘liberal pansies’ as your father would call them had a point. _If_ they really hated humans so much why hadn’t they set about their evil work and laid waste to everyone yet?

They had ample opportunity. Eventually you’d just decided they were just like any other asshole and treated them accordingly – with a wide berth and the same attitude they gave you.

Never thought you’d end up bsing with one in a bar after a rough day at work. Never thought one of them would have bothered to look out for you after you stupidly got hammered. Never thought you’d ever see a _skeleton_ of all things like **that**.

But now that you had, you couldn’t exactly unsee it, now could you? Monsters were people. Fucked up murderous people, but so were the assembled hate group listening as your father pandered to their and his crazy bullshit.

Not that your thoughts on the matter meant much, and you didn’t dare voice your perceptions anywhere they might get back to your father…Which considering how tight a hold he kept on your life, was anywhere at all.

As Dust to Dust officially began its weekly meeting, discussing the most recent monster activities in the news, the doom sure to follow, and updates from the neighborhood watch on any creatures moving into the area, you stood in the back of the church refilling the punch bowel.

Which left you in the perfect spot to witness the grand entrance of a tall skeleton decked out from head to toe in black, red, and spikes. The doors of the church burst inwards, and in stomped something out of a bad eighties movie. He even had a red cape that flowed behind him smoothly as he marched up to your father’s podium before the altar.

Your heart lodged somewhere in the vicinity of your stomach and a knot of fear curled in your stomach. Fuck was he here for you personally or here for the group as a whole? Either way you were screwed three ways to Sunday.

Like a herd of deer caught in the headlights, no one moved as the Great and Terrible Papyrus – there was no doubt in your mind that he deserved the title in this moment – turned and faced the assembly, sweeping a harsh glare around the room.

Perhaps the rest of the group saw what you saw, a terrifying and commanding force to be reckoned with, or maybe they were just shocked by the balls on a monster walking into not only a ‘holy’ place but a meeting of a hate group. Either way no one moved or made a sound as he surveyed the group, the bulletin board of monster information, the map of the city and world with known monster hot spots marked on it.

He actually took a dry erase marker and _corrected_ a few things and then smirked at the still staring crowed. _That’s_ when half the room pulled their weapons and trained them on him.

Getting a concealed carry permit was practically one of the requirements of being a part of a hate group.  For ‘protection’ purposes.

A snort from beside you startled you into jumping, the shorter skeleton having wandered in sometime after the other one’s theatrical entrance and fixing himself a plate of snacks. He seemed completely unconcerned about his brother’s wellbeing, and remembering what Sans had done to you last night you couldn’t help but shiver at what a monster of Papyrus’ LV could do to a room full of people, guns or not.

You backed away slowly, but he took no notice of you or the tension in the room at all as he poured copious amounts of mustard onto his plate. The hate group may deserve whatever these two decided to do to them, you were more than half convinced they’d been going out dusting monsters for a while now, but you were damned if _you_ were going down without a fight.

Slipping an arm into your dad’s office you found one of his many shotguns leaning against the wall, exactly where you remembered. You checked it without taking your eyes off of the red coated snacking monster, and it was loaded.

This wouldn’t be an equal fight either. Monsters had magic, but humans had soul power. This had no doubt been learned in a dubious manner by the hate group, but you were glad for the information.

You hated feeling helpless. Readying the gun and pointing it at the side of Sans’ head, you didn’t feel helpless for once. Not like last time. Now you were the one with the power. Right?

“heheh, don’t kid yourself kiddo. takes intent to dust one of us.” He picked up his now entirely yellow plate and other than the comment he didn’t acknowledge you. Confident son of a bitch.

You didn’t pull your weapon, didn’t point it at someone, unless you were planning on using it. That was the rule. One of the few things your dad had bothered to teach you about gun control.

The shot echoed loudly in the room, but your father’s men barely flinched. They had the other guy to cover after all and gun shots in this church weren’t exactly uncommon.

“That was a warning shot. The next time I fire it will be to put a bullet in your head. Put down the plate and put your hands behind your head.” Your voice was calm, serious, and you meant it. You had to mean it. It was kill or be killed.

Yeah. You’d kill to survive. Maybe you were scared of what the monsters could do, and had done to get their LV to where it was, but dust couldn’t hurt you. Maybe Papyrus hadn’t been as ridiculous as you thought last night, saying you could dust him if you got the jump on him. The way intent built in you, how you could feel yourself coolly detaching and preparing yourself to do whatever you needed to do, you felt powerful in a way you never had before.

How about that. Maybe a person _could_ do anything they set their mind to.

Sans more or less followed your instructions, _ate_ his paper plate whole and then laced his fingers behind his skull. He was smiling widely at you and was ... Sweating slightly? The sight actually snapped you out of your weird murderous reverie.

Had _you_ managed to scare _him?_

 _You_ were always the scared one.

Always.

The one who bluffed and blustered your way through things. No way these spooky scary skeletons were afraid of you. You were just faking it until you made it after all.

Everyone was bigger and badder than you, but maybe you’d finally managed to fool someone.

“hey boss. think we’ll have a good time here.” You didn’t take your eyes off of your target, but you heard some of the others shift uncomfortably at the lack of concern in his voice.

 Or maybe not.

From the front your father tried to get a handle on the situation. “What do you two think you’re doing walking in here? This isn’t a place for the likes of your kind!” Getting warmed up now that it seemed the situation was well in hand – after all there were only two of them and they were both covered – he put on his ‘leader’ voice. “In fact we’re here to see your kind are wiped from the face of the planet-”

“The Great Papyrus, Head of the Royal Guard, respects your determination human – and that of your army.” He cut off father. No one did that. Reverend of the church and leader of the hate group Dust to Dust, your old man could probably count on his fingers how many times he had been interrupted.

A grin started to make its way across your face while you pictured him turning purple and that vein in his head throbbing. The skeleton before you echoed your smile, his gold tooth glinting as he did so, no longer looking worried – if he ever had and that hadn’t been a trick of your imagination.

The pompous voice from the front of the room continued, unnoticing or uncaring about how tight most of the men’s fingers got on their triggers. “Which is why I have decided to honor you all with my presence.”

He then proceeded to hold forth, for an entire hour, just about every reason he had to hate every other monster that had escaped from hell.

Why hadn’t monsters gone forth and waged war on humans yet?

Turned out the answer was simpler than your father’s radical notions of elaborate plans of world domination. The simple fact of the matter was that Monsters hated Monsters too.

No kidding.

Apparently after centuries of being trapped together they’d all developed a personal loathing and distaste for each one of their fellow hell spawn.

As soon as Papyrus’ voice went into condescending lecture you dropped the barrel of the gun.

You recognized it from the bar, him telling you of his escapades as the leader of the underground monster royal guard and there was no doubt you’d be there awhile unless one of the humans decided to do something stupid. Despite the obvious distaste on your ‘esteemed’ fathers face many of the men were following your example, lowering but not holstering their weapons as the group tried to be vigilant but ultimately fell under the skeleton’s thrall.

You felt yourself relax a bit, because murderer or no he could really hold a crowed and tell a good story. It seemed like he had a personal and amusing -if occasionally violent - anecdote explaining every reason he had to hate each and every one of the monsters, tales of how they personally wronged him, and it was all told with such a dramatic flair you couldn’t help but enjoy.

The sound of a throat being cleared jerked your attention back to the other monster in the building. Honestly dumbass, sure Papyrus literally commanded attention but this short shit that was grinning at you smugly, had actively threated you outside of your own home, had used magic on you, and had completely disregarded your threat to shoot him.

He was a threat, a danger! And had easily called your bluff even after you’d managed to convince yourself you’d really do it... And you might, if he was actively attacking you again. But instead Sans was just waggling his eye sockets at you and you shot him with nothing more lethal than your glare and waved him back to the snack table.

Not like anyone here would touch the food now that it’d been ‘contaminated’.

You propped the gun on your shoulder and decided to enjoy the momentary peace. After all, at some point the group would remember that while he was bitching about the same things they bitched about every Sunday, he _was_ still a monster.

Besides. Assuming two murders or rampant manslaughter _didn’t_ actually happen today, you’d be hearing about this once you got home. Even if the monsters hadn’t come here for you, even if they never said they knew you, your father would find a way to pin this all on you as your fault.

You kept half an eye on the short shit beside you, but he was behaving himself, clearing the table of anything remotely edible after drenching it in mustard.

You debated going back to your father's office and making an anonymous tip to the cops that there was a disturbance at the church ... But monsters had a deal put in place with the police.

They could be held and detained but currently the law system wasn’t set up to deal with monsters. Not unbiased judging them and definitely not holding them in any form or fashion. So the royal family dealt with troublemakers themselves. Sometimes disregarding human law and sometimes unexpectedly harsh and permanent depending on the offense.

Whatever their real goal here, it’d probably be best not to escalate the situation by dragging in law enforcement when they could just be free in 24 hours and right back to try again next Sunday.

So yeah. Enjoy your father’s anger, the mass of sheep before you temporarily following the call of a new shepherd. Enjoy holding a weapon and knowing that right at this moment, surrounded by two different types of monsters you were the safest you had been all weekend.

And maybe enjoy, just a little, how his rich voice soothed that ache of want in you. It was a safe indulgence to close your eyes and imagine the bar because no one would know. Hell the guy hadn’t once looked your way; he probably didn't even know you were here.

Maybe it was just that it had been a long time since you’d really enjoyed yourself. Work and home life weren’t exactly ideal. Some life coach or idealistic tv cast best friend would tell you that you just needed to get out there and start dating, that this crush was a sign you were finally ready for all that drama and bullshit.

The thought made you ill.

Even if some perfect guy came in and tried to sweep you off your feet, you wouldn't go. Love doesn’t magically solve all your problems... And besides you obviously had a type, and there was no way you were going to hook up for more of what you got at home.

If your life was like tv though and you did have some perky best friend telling you to get out there, Papyrus would be a jerk with a heart of gold... But considering he was currently describing in grisly detail how he managed to debone another monster without it turning to dust ... Well life wasn't like that.


End file.
